


Frozen Heart

by strictlyamess



Series: Reddie Fairytales [8]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frozen (2013) Fusion, M/M, Reddie, Reddie Fairytales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlyamess/pseuds/strictlyamess
Summary: With Princess Myra defeated and the land defrosted, the expectation was that things would finally go back to normal in Bill Denbrough's kingdom of Arendelle.Ice Harvester Richie Tozier is not normal, and neither is his request for the King(Or: for all the letting go that Bill Denbrough has done, there's still one big thing he's holding onto.)[Frozen AU]





	Frozen Heart

The steps of Arendelle’s palace were made of black marble, with a white swirling pattern that snaked up and through towards the sturdy, detailed oak double doors that led to the great hall. Bill Denbrough both loved and hated looking out at them. The blackness of the marble undercut with streaks of winter white always felt more like a reflection of his inner self than a statement of architectural fashion. It was cold and unchanging: a black, hardened base with that damned ice white running through it - black for the hardness of Bill’s heart, ice white for the frozen magic that he was cursed with, and for the coldness that had settled into his veins when he’d realized that having said magic was more of a burden than a gift.

Richie Tozier noticed none of this as he stumbled clumsily up towards where Bill was standing in the doorway. He also didn’t notice that Bill had discreetly iced the steps, and promptly and dramatically fell on his ass.

“Be careful,” Bill called, smiling thinly.

“I meant to do that,” Richie retorted, wincing as he peeled himself off of the ground. “Didn’t want to seem too intimidating.”

Bill raised a careful eyebrow. “You think I would be intimidated by you?”

Richie took a minute to take in Bill’s ornate, elaborately-patterned frost-blue suit. Bill didn’t usually put on his formal royal stuff for one-on-one meetings or even in general, but he’d kind of wanted to freak Richie out today. He had a feeling he knew why Richie had requested an audience.

“I didn’t mean to assume anything,” Richie finally mumbled, eyes glued to Bill’s pressed white gloves.

“Of course not.” Bill waved grandly, motioning for Richie to come inside. “Get on with it, then. You’ve been here before.”

He allowed himself the satisfaction of watching Richie fall one more time before defrosting the steps and letting him limp into the castle.

“So that wasn’t the foot I was looking to start out on.”

Richie began talking almost immediately once they were inside. His smile was too big, and his voice was a little bit louder than it usually was - just enough for Bill to deduce that he was nervous in spite of his confident demeanor. Well, good. He deserved to be nervous. What he was about to ask for was no small thing.

“Seems you had trouble starting out on either foot,” Bill said neatly, bringing Richie to the edge of the carpet in front of the throne. Deliberately, Bill then left him there and went to sit on the beautiful, glassy chair, which he’d recently remade out of ice. He was sure he looked every inch the King he now was - powerful, beautiful, cold.

(He was trying to be less cold these days, but in this instance, he absolutely couldn’t help himself.)

“You’re trying to scare me off.” Richie was, as always, blunt and far more observant than Bill gave him credit for. “Really? After all we’ve been through, Bill Denbrough? You’ve gotta give me more credit than this.”

“That’s Your Majesty to you--” Bill couldn’t help but correct.

Richie crossed his arms over his bulky tunic and looked up at Bill, unimpressed. “Yeah, okay. _Your Majesty._ What’re we doing here, huh?”

“You tell me,” Bill retorted, frowning and fidgeting with his gloves. “You requested an audience. Awfully formal of you, for someone who spends most of his time between the royal stables and my cousin’s bedroom.”

Richie winced - it was plain that he had some misconceptions about what was and wasn’t discreet. Bill could practically see the cogs in his brain turning as he scrambled for a response. “I didn’t think you knew about that whole bedroom deal....”

“Just,” Bill rolled his eyes and pushed a hand through his hair, “keep it down, okay? Some of us have kingdoms to run.”

“Noted.” Richie took a deep breath and nodded, and Bill was impressed in spite of himself. Even after Bill had pulled out all of his Ice King stops, Richie was still not embarrassed or shaken - he stood casually, hands in the pockets of his bizarrely colored snow pants and shoulders a little slouched, and kept talking. “So, uh, given that you know about _that,_ I don’t really understand why you’re doing what you’re doing here--”

“There’s a difference,” Bill reminded him stiffly, “between love and marriage - and it’s the second one you’ve come to ask me about, isn’t it?”

For the first time since Bill had met him (and it had been months!), Richie seemed to be left without anything to say.

“I asked you a question, Richard,” Bill prompted, smiling quietly to himself at the way Richie seemed to be trying to vanish into his own thick, bulky clothing. “You, a local ice merchant with a weird thing about reindeer, are about to ask me for permission to marry Edward ‘Eddie’ Kaspbrak, Prince of Arendelle and heir apparent to this throne in the case of my untimely demise. Is that correct?”

Richie pulled his hat down over his eyes, presumably out of mortification. “Did you really have to put it like that?”

“Oh, what’s the matter? Is it the fact that you’re here in your sweaty work clothes in front of the King?” Bill asked, eyes fixed on the stupid pom-pom at the top of Richie’s knit cap. “Or do you have something to tell me about the reindeer situation?”

The hat abruptly came back up. “What’s the matter? You being a dick about sweatpants versus suits, first of all, and also whatever fucking ‘heir apparent’ language you’re using...it’s just _Eddie_ , dude...but now that you mention it, what the fuck were you trying to insinuate about me and Stan?”

Bill blinked back at him. “Mind your language. And am I to assume that Stan is the reindeer?”

“Yes. Stan is the reindeer. A classy name for a classy creature,” Richie responded hotly, “and I would _never_.”

“Never what?” Bill asked innocently.

“You _know_ what,” Richie said, finally embarrassed. Bill could feel himself edging closer to victory.

“I don’t think I do….” Bill said, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re trying to get me to say out loud that I think you implied that I fucked a reindeer,” Richie said incredulously, shaking his head. His nose and ears were bright red, and his arms were crossed protectively over his chest. “The King of Arendelle is trying to make a joke about reindeer fucking.”

“Am I to presume that because you’re not answering the question, you did, in fact, fuck the reindeer?” Bill was full on shaking with silent laughter at that point, and about thirty seconds away from joyful tears.

“What happened to ‘mind your language’, huh? And Stan and I are friends. Friends! Nothing more.” Richie scowled. “Disgusting.”

“Oh, _I’m_ disgusting?” Bill asked, feeling his amusement dwindle at the mention of disgust. It hadn’t been all that long ago that the entire kingdom was referring to him in those terms - a monster, a creature, something worthy of revilement. He supposed he’d earned at least some of the name calling - running out on his own kingdom after accidentally burying it in snow wasn’t exactly model King behavior - but it still hurt to hear the word come out of Richie’s mouth. “Reindeers aside, the walls of this castle are not as thin as you and Eddie seem to think, so--”

Richie winced again. “Yeah, gotcha. Didn’t mean to weird you out. Sorry.”

“Great.” Bill steepled his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think back on the past few months’ worth of sleepless nights spent listening to the low murmurs and cries from Eddie’s room down the hallway. “Can we please return to the matter at hand.”

“I’m not even the one that derailed us this time--” Riche started to protest, but Bill cut him off with a raised hand.

“Details. Now. I know you and my cousin have been through a lot together-”

“And whose fault is that?” Richie muttered under his breath, quiet enough that it was technically an aside but loud enough that it was clear he wanted Bill to hear him.

“You didn’t have to help,” Bill reminded him sourly.

“What would have happened if I didn’t?” Richie challenged, stepping forward so that he was almost on the bottommost step leading up to the throne. “Eddie was all alone in the middle of that fucking blizzard, looking for you. He was so goddamn scared he’d lost you forever after you cued up the storm and then bolted.”

Fuck. Bill hadn’t opened this up to be reminded of all his familial failures. “I am well aware.”

“You were gonna let him freeze to death on that mountain,” Richie continued. He’d built up quite a bit of steam, now, and would have been pacing if he were anywhere but the throne room. As it was, he was trembling a little bit in his bulky snow boots. “You were gonna let him marry that fucking psycho Princess Myra of the Seven Whosiwhatsits!”

“Isles,” Bill corrected, frowning. “Seven Isles. It’s not that hard to remember.”

“You know what else isn’t that hard to remember?” Richie’s eyes were flinty, now, and Bill gripped the armrests of the throne, trying to steel himself for whatever Richie was going to say in his anger. “How to pay attention to Eddie Kaspbrak! How to take care of him! Like, I know he’s not your _real_ brother, but--”

“He is for all intents and purposes my real brother,” Bill snapped, rising from his chair and expecting that to put an end to the conversation.

He had once again underestimated Richie Tozier’s mouth.

“Yeah, well I guess that makes sense because you killed your real brother and you just about killed Eddie too.” Richie’s mouth was working separately from his brain, which was made excruciatingly obvious by the hand he clapped over his mouth after that treacherous sentence slipped out and into the open.

If Eddie hadn’t loved Richie so much, Bill would have executed him for that - slowly and painfully.

“Georgie was an accident,” Bill said softly, sinking back down into his chair. “I wish Eddie hadn’t told you about that.”

“He told me it was an accident.” Richie was quick to reassure now that he was scrambling to regain ground. “He said you loved Georgie more than anything.”

“Loved Georgie and Eddie more than anything,” Bill corrected, closing his eyes and retreating into childhood memories. The day his parents had finally decreed that Eddie stay with them was one of the happiest days he could remember. He and Georgie had been clamouring to know Eddie since they’d first found out about his existence - they couldn’t imagine their overbearing Aunt Sonia, the Duchess of Weselton, as a mother, and when they’d found out she’d been keeping a son locked away in her estate, they’d wanted more than anything to get him away from the life he’d been living...away from Sonia.

They’d all been together when Georgie had died. Eddie was two years into being a part of their family, and the three of them had settled into patterns of mischief that Bill was still in the process of spending a long time regretting.

All of that was to say that he hadn’t meant to deal a fatal blow to Georgie’s head with his ice powers, and he hadn’t ever, EVER meant to make Eddie feel like he wasn’t part of the family - that he wasn’t _wanted_.

“You should say that to Eddie,” Richie said, quieter than Bill had ever heard him before. “You should tell him you love him. He needs that.”

Bill looked numbly at the polished tips of his boots. “I thought he already knew. When I went to him...when he’d frozen over on the ice after trying to save me from Myra, and I melted him back to life...I thought it was a given, that everybody knew. Only love can heal a frozen heart.”

Richie sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, yeah, the gesture was great, and I personally love the fact that Eddie isn’t currently an ice statue, but it never hurts to say the fucking thing, Denbrough, seriousl--oh, dicks. Ugh. Sorry, redact the ‘fuck’, sub in ‘Your Majesty’ for ‘Denbrough’, what other formalities did I miss…”

Bill looked back up, meeting Richie’s eyes directly. He knew that the conversation hadn’t tangled itself up because of Richie - Bill had been intentionally provocative, and Richie had been nervous - but the obvious fear in Richie’s face suggested that he wasn’t quite so sure where things had gone wrong.

It was also real, concrete proof of exactly how important Eddie was to Richie. Every fiber of Richie’s being was practically screaming out in remorse. He had wanted this conversation to go well so badly - and he was making Bill want things to go well for him, too.

But. BUT. Bill hadn’t exactly set himself up for success with his subjects when he’d kicked off his reign by burying the kingdom in snow. Could he really afford to have his second major decision be to marry off the Heir Apparent to a common ice-hauler? After Georgie, after the coronation and subsequent storm, after the debacle with Myra, Bill was on thin ice (pun absolutely intended) with his subjects, and as much as he liked Richie, there was a good chance that allowing Richie to marry into the royal family would be one blunder too many in the eyes of the people of Arendelle.

There was no good way of going about any of this.

“Denbrough is acceptable,” he found himself saying to Richie, dropping his eyes again. “You can call me Denbrough.”

Richie lit up. “Does that mean--”

“I’m still thinking about it,” Bill said honestly, fiddling with his gloves again. “You’ll have your answer tomorrow.”

Richie tried to bite back his disappointment, but Bill didn’t miss the way his face fell at the words ‘still thinking’.

“Tomorrow, huh?”

“I have a lot to consider.” Bill waved a hand towards one of the castle’s many hallways. “Go to Eddie. I know he’s been waiting for you. He should be by the pier.”

Richie’s expression was turbulent as he made his way towards the door Bill had indicated. When he reached it, he looked back, and Bill’s breath caught in his throat at the sadness in Richie’s eyes.

“Please, Bill,” he asked, his usual joking mannerisms completely set aside. “Please. I love him.”

Bill slumped back in his throne, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll do what I need to do for the kingdom, Richie. You can’t ask me for more than that.”

Richie didn’t respond. Instead, he stomped off, letting the _thud_ of his snowboots echo around the huge, empty chamber. Bill waited until he heard the click of the hallway door before opening his eyes again.

He meant what he’d told Richie about the kingdom, but he still really didn’t know how to best service his people, and he had no one - no trusted advisors, no friends - to give him answers.

What was he going to do?

He was pretty immediately distracted from his dilemma by the sound of Richie’s voice in the hallway. Frowning, he pushed himself out of his throne and over to the door to investigate. He hadn’t thought that anyone but the waitstaff was in the castle that day.

“You heard him, Eds,” Richie was saying despondently. Bill imagined that he was pacing - finally letting out all of the anxiety and anger he’d built up in the throne room. “He’s making decisions for the kingdom, and the kingdom doesn’t want some fucking backwoods kid tripping his way around the throne room. He knows that.”

“He knows _you_.” Eddie’s voice was high and clear, and Bill felt his breath catch again. He’d thought that Eddie was overseeing trade by the pier today - that was why he’d arranged the meeting with Richie for this day, this time, this place.

How much had Eddie heard…? And - WHO was overseeing trade down at the pier without him?

Bill elected to ignore the potential chaos of the pier for a few more minutes. Eddie was still speaking.

“He knows you, Richie,” Eddie repeated, “and he knows exactly what you bring to the table - your street smarts, your reliability, your charisma, your giant--”

“Dick,” Richie cut in, and Bill heard the unmistakable sound of a small fist connecting with a heavy woolen tunic.

“Heart, you dumbass. Your giant heart. He knows all the stuff you did for me, and for him, and for the kingdom, and he knows that you did it out of love.”

It was true. Eddie had told the story of his quest up the mountain with Richie at least two dozen times at this point, and every time, Richie came out looking better and better. Some of the more recent details of the story were obviously false (like Richie killing Bill’s monstrous snow guard with his bare hands - those noodly arms could barely hurt a fly, let alone a 20 foot ice creature with razor-sharp teeth), and some of it just seemed sort of sketchy (like Richie’s valiant ride through the snow on the reindeer to deliver true love’s kiss to Eddie - Bill had seen that reindeer and the thing was too prissy to ever even consider breaking into a gallop), but Bill indulged it. It was worth it to hear the laughter in Eddie’s voice and see the pride in Eddie’s face as he went off about something brave that Richie had done.

“He has to say yes,” Eddie continued urgently. “He’d be an idiot not to.”

There was a pause, and then Richie spoke back up tentatively. “Look, I’m not trying to call your cousin an idiot, but Eds...he still might say no.”

Bill cracked open the door a little bit so that he could hear better. He peered through the small opening once the door was appropriately ajar, and saw Eddie and Richie standing face to face in the middle of the hallway, talking. Eddie had his back to Bill, but Bill could see that he had a handful of Richie’s outrageously colored tunic clutched in his little fist. Richie had a hand on the small of Eddie’s back, rubbing tight circles into the green fabric of Eddie’s vest and looking like he couldn’t decide whether to be concerned about their situation or elated that Eddie was so close to him.

Bill grimaced and almost shut the door. All he’d ever wanted in the world, after Georgie’s death, was for Eddie to be happy like Richie made him happy. Was he really going to let fear and duty ruin things between him and Eddie again?

Did he have a choice?

“We could run away instead, maybe.” Richie was still talking. The hand that was rubbing Eddie’s back started to move somewhat erratically. “We could get married with my family, in the woods. No fancy ceremony, no kingdom, no bullshit. Just you and me - in love, the way it was meant to be.”

Bill could practically see the frown in the slump of Eddie’s shoulders. “If we have to, I guess. But Rich - Bill’s my family. Bill’s my _brother_. I want him to see me get married. He’s been looking out for me for so long.”

Bill didn’t wait to hear Richie’s response to that. He closed the door quickly, letting Eddie’s words echo around in his brain.

_If we have to…_

_I want him to see me get married…_

_Bill’s my **brother**._

There was still an option left as far as advice was concerned. Bill hadn’t wanted to consider it, as it was a very biased option, but it was looking like he had no other choice.

“Somebody fetch my horse,” he called out to the hall, tossing his cape behind him and sweeping his way out of the front door of the castle.

If Richie wanted to bring his family into this, then Bill was going to go straight to the source to ensure that he stayed in the loop.

*          *          *

It took a while for Bill to locate the smattering of mossy rocks he was looking for, but he got there somewhere around sundown.

“Queen Beverly,” he called out, feeling kind of stupid talking to a field of boulders. “King Benjamin...oh, for fuck’s sake. Ben. Bev. Can I, uh. Can I have a word.”

The largest boulder shifted slightly and unfurled to reveal the unmistakable countenance of Benjamin, King of the Trolls. Ben was big and broad for a troll - he was almost Bill’s height, and his shoulders were wide and prominent. If you looked at him in the right light, he could almost pass for human, which was both intriguing and alarming.

His face fell when he saw Bill.

“Oh, no,” he sighed, stony face drawn into a grimace. “Who did you freeze this time?”

“Was it our idiot ward?” The mossiest boulder was the next to take shape. She tossed her green foliage hair and moved to comb through the fiery red flowers she’d grown near the top of her forehead. Queen Beverly was quite beautiful, as rock-shapeshifting magical beings went...and quite dangerous, too. She was the main spellcaster of the troll community, and Bill eyed her hands warily, knowing all too well how accurately they were able to shoot curses.

“Well, actually--”

“Because I’d understand completely if you decided to freeze Richie,” she continued, rolling her eyes. “How’s he fairing with the humans?”

“Well, I have reason to believe he co-conspired with my cousin to leave the entire kingdom’s trade in the hands of Wandering Mike today,” Bill said dryly.

Ben nodded with a certain practiced weariness. “From the trading post, right? That makes sense. Richie’s always gotten a kick out of how he calls his sales ‘blowouts’.”

Bev chuckled. “Hah. Blow.”

Ben turned to look at her, a fond twinkle in his eye. “Wonder where the boy got his sense of humor from.”

“He _is_ the reason I’ve come to talk to you today, though,” Bill cut in, not wanting to be away from the castle for longer than he needed to. “Richie, that is, not Wandering Mike. Something’s come up.”

Bev sighed and buried a hand in her mossy hair. “Did he get his tongue stuck to a lamppost again?”

It took a moment for that sentence to register in Bill’s brain. “Wha--what? No. No, that’s...is that something he does all the time?”

“Not since he was little,” said Ben, “but you never really know what nervous habits are going to stick...sometimes literally.”

“In hindsight, the whole ‘licking poles’ thing should have really clued us in to--” Bev began, but Bill cut her off with a desperate wave of his hand.

“Stop, stop, no need for entendres, I get it, we’re good.” Bill took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and regain control of the situation. “On the subject of romance, though - Richie came to me today with a proposition.”

Bill was pretty sure Bev’s face would have gone white in that moment if she weren’t made of granite. “Bill Denbrough, if this has anything to do with that reindeer our boy is so fond of, then I’m going to need you to stop talking right now and just deal with this yourself--”

“This is what we get for raising babies we find abandoned in the forest,” Ben muttered, turning his eyes upwards.

It was all Bill could do to stifle his laughter. “Oh, no. No...although I won’t pretend that didn’t come up...but no, no, he came to ask about Eddie.”

“Oh.” Relief washed over Ben and Bev’s faces. “That’s it? He told us he was going to propose to Eddie _weeks_ ago.”

Bill was a little annoyed to hear that, but he figured he couldn’t complain, given that he was the one who’d scheduled Richie’s audience with the throne for today. He bit back his hurt feelings and pressed on.

“Well, he brought it up with me today,” Bill said, shuffling his feet in the grass, “and I don’t know what to tell him.”

He didn’t know why he’d expected Bev and Ben to be on board with the nuances of his dilemma right away, but he definitely had, and so the confusion on their faces was a little surprising.

“Yes,” Bev said after a moment of puzzled silence. “That’s what you tell him, Bill. You tell him yes, because they’re soulmates and they’re happy and Richie doesn’t have any other prospects so you better not screw this up for us.”

Ben shook his head, shooting Bev an exhausted glance. “I think what Bev means to say is that they’re definitely in love. I’d never seen Richie give another human being so much as a second glance before I saw him with Eddie, and they weren’t even together when Rich brought him here to be healed after you _so kindly_ blasted him in the head with your ice powers.” He paused, fixing Bill with a withering look. “Eddie was just trying to help you and the kingdom by bringing you back from your self-imposed exile, you know. There was really no need to go full Ice King on him--”

“ENOUGH.” Bill was tired of having his failures thrown back in his face. “I know I have a lot to make up to Eddie. It’s my fault that he had to climb the goddamn mountain to find me after I panicked at coronation and froze the kingdom, it’s my fault that he was hit in the head with ice magic and eventually froze solid, and it’s my fault that his fiancee almost killed both of us out on the ice. I _know._ But. I have a lot to make up to the _kingdom_ , too, and putting an ice merchant in position to inherit the throne is going to cause a riot. I’ve already kept the public out and away from the castle for years, I’ve plunged them into an unnatural winter, I abandoned Arendelle in a time of dire need, I--”

“When you were a child,” Ben interrupted, looking largely nonplussed by Bill’s miniature rant (Bill supposed that was one of the benefits of being made of stone - the two rulers of the Trolls were pretty much unshakable), “you used to stutter. Do you remember?”

Bill did remember. He’d been so embarrassed - what kind of future King couldn’t even speak clearly for his people? A lot of the time he’d spent in his room had been dedicated to repeating the same vocal exercises over and over. _He thrusts his fists against the posts…_

There was no reason for him to have to be revisiting those dark, lonely years now.

“Please don’t talk in riddles today,” Bill pleaded. “I told Richie I’d have an answer for him tomorrow, and I have nothing. Absolutely no idea.”

Ben sighed and repeated his question. “Do you remember when you used to stutter, Bill?”

Bill stared at Ben’s chiseled rock face, trying to parse out exactly what he was getting at by reminding Bill of his former embarrassments.

“Yes,” Bill finally said. “I remember.”

Ben nodded. “And what do you think that stutter said about you? What did people think?”

“It said everything.” Bill crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hold himself together in a more physical way now that it was clear that he wasn’t capable of doing it emotionally. “That stutter said _everything_ about me - that I was scared, that I was weak, that I didn’t have myself under control…”

“Would you like to know what other people thought about your stutter?” Bev asked quietly, holding out a hand to him.

 _Not really,_ Bill’s mind hissed, but he knew he had to be a bigger person than that. Inhaling sharply, he nodded, and leaned into Beverly’s touch.

An image of Eddie appeared in his mind, as he was when Richie had brought him to the Trolls for healing. They’d adorned him in some kind of ceremonial flower attire, and he was wrapped in a kind of leaf blanket. He looked very pale.

“Is this a memory?” Bill asked warily. Bev’s only response was to shush him.

_“Oh, fuck, Eddie, I’m so sorry.” Richie’s lanky frame flickered and then entered the vision - he crossed in from the left and knelt at the side of Eddie’s bed. “My family is so goddamn—“_

_“Cute,” Eddie cut in. In spite of how terrible he looked, he was smiling. “I like them. I don't mind their quest to marry you off. You need all the help you can get, anyway.”_

_“I...yeah, I know.” Richie looked away from Eddie and flushed red. His eyes were sad, and Bill remembered abruptly that they’d both thought, at that point, that Myra was Eddie’s true love - that she was going to be the one to melt the ice Bill had put in Eddie’s heart. Richie’s whole mission at that moment had been to deliver the person he loved to somebody else, some other suitor._

_Bill hadn’t really taken into account exactly how selfless Richie had been when it came to Eddie._

_“Do you need anything?” Richie was asking, anxiously surveying the blanket that Eddie had wrapped around his narrow shoulders._

_“Not now,” Eddie said quietly, reaching out to touch the wreath of flowers around Richie’s head. Their clothing matched - the Trolls had obviously been trying to coordinate them in whatever ways they could. “But. You’ll ride with me tomorrow, right?”_

_“Of course,” Richie said, digging his nails into his palms. “You, me, and Stan, on a quest to find this Princess Hydra.”_

_“Myra,” Eddie corrected. “And I hope...I hope Bill’s there, too.”_

_Richie wrinkled his nose. “After all the bullshit Bill put you through up in his drama queen ice castle, you want him back? Eddie, let him stay up there. Let him rot up there.”_

_Eddie shook his head. “No...no, Richie...Bill used to stutter, up to when he was about twelve. Did you know that? Did anyone outside of the castle know?”_

_Richie’s eyebrows cinched towards the middle of his forehead. “No, I don’t think anyone did, Eds, but what does this have to do with--”_

_“He worked so hard on it,” Eddie continued, smiling softly. “He practiced every day, and slowly but surely, he beat it. He got the stutter under control.”_

_“Eddie,” Richie tried again, but Eddie still wasn’t done._

_“He’ll beat this, too,” Eddie said firmly. “I know he will. He’ll control his powers and be a great leader. He just needs some time. Okay?”_

_Richie was wise enough to know not to argue with Eddie on that point._

_“Okay,” Richie agreed._ With that, Bev lifted her hand, and the memory faded.

Bill stared at the dirt for a moment, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen.

“Where you saw failure, Eddie saw triumph,” Bev said, looking up into Bill’s face. “Where you see inexperience, the kingdom might see representation. It’s been a long time since anyone outside of the local royal families held a throne.”

“Eddie has always seen me with rose-colored glasses,” Bill murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists. “He’s never been able to see the person...the _monster_ that’s actually there.”

“You’re wrong about that,” Ben said, moving to stand next to Bev. “Eddie knows you exactly as you are - not a monster, not disgusting, just a talented kid who got thrown into a situation he wasn’t prepared for. He knows what you’re capable of, he sees how you’ve grown, and he trusts you to make the right decision - not only for the kingdom, but for your _family._ ”

Bill wasn’t sure if what the Trolls were saying was completely true, but he trusted in Eddie’s unwavering belief...and anything Eddie believed in had to have at least a little bit of goodness in it, right? Eddie had always had good instincts.

Fleetingly, Bill’s mind provided him with an image: the grip of Eddie’s hand in Richie’s tunic earlier that day in the castle hallway - the _sureness_ of it.

“You know what the right choice is,” Bev said, the corners of her crevice of a mouth turning up. “All you have left to do is make it.”

Bill let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in.

“There will be dissenters,” he pointed out.

“Let Richie change their minds,” Ben suggested. “For all his crudeness, he can be very persuasive.”

Bill snorted. “He sure persuaded Eddie, huh.”

Bev laughed quietly. “Bill, I think he’s persuaded you, too.”

Bill thought about that - of Richie’s big, funny smile and how easy it was to be around him - and felt a decision solidify in his mind.

“You won’t be upset that they’re not getting married in the forest?” he asked, and Ben and Bev gripped on to one another in joy.

“Anything’s fine as long as he’s not allowed to bring the reindeer,” Bev said solemnly, and the three of them dissolved into blessed, relieved laughter.

*          *          *

“I really don’t know if you should be here, Eds.”

Bill had peeled himself out of bed extra early the next morning, hoping to get to the throne room and set himself up before he was due to deliver the news to Richie...and still, somehow, they’d beaten him to the punch. Bill resisted the urge to curse to himself - he could have gotten at least twenty minutes’ worth of extra sleep if he’d known that they were going to arrive at the asscrack of dawn.

“Why are you so scared of him, Richie? It’s just Bill. He couldn’t even figure out how to tie his shoes until he was eight and a half - he’s nothing to worry about now.”

Bill stopped and pressed his ear to the door, hoping to get a read on how Richie and Eddie were feeling before he barged in on them.

“I’m not scared of him,” Richie insisted. “I’m scared of what he might do. The last time he freaked out, the region got buried in snow, and the time before that, somebody _died_. Oh, and lest we forget: it snows, I go completely broke. How am I supposed to give you everything your heart desires if I can’t even pay back Wandering Mike? Carrots aren’t cheap, you know.”

“Georgie was an accident,” Eddie reminded him. “And the absolute worst thing that could happen in this meeting is that you get a ‘no’, in which case we’ll get married with your troll family and be weird forest nomads for the rest of our lives.”

Bill could almost hear Richie raising an eyebrow. “You’d be okay with being a forest nomad?”

“I’m okay with anything, as long as I’m with you.”

Someone inhaled sharply - probably Richie, Bill figured, and then there was a wet sound that made Bill’s stomach churn a little bit. He decided to take that sound as a cue to enter the room. Better safe than sorry, Bill reasoned: the less time he gave them to be gross, the less chance that he would walk in on something obscene.

He opened the door loudly, hoping to scare them apart, and took a second before looking up, in case they needed a minute to compose themselves. Unfortunately, none of the precautions Bill took helped him in any way, shape, or form. When Bill turned his head towards the middle of the room, he was greeted by the unfortunate sight of Richie sitting on the royal throne with Eddie curled up in his lap. They hadn’t noticed Bill’s entrance in spite of the banging noise of the door, so they were still going at it...and things were already getting kind of sloppy.

(For all that he was skeeved out, Bill also found himself relieved that he had chosen to enter sooner rather than later.)

What was worse, the reindeer was there, too. He was positioned behind the throne, and was making unflinching eye contact with Bill whilst chewing neatly on a carrot. It was very disconcerting.

“Excuse me,” Bill said loudly, stomping the heel of his boot against the cold marble of the floor. “This is the Throne Room, not the Bone Room.”

Richie and Eddie leapt to their feet and scampered down and away from Bill’s icy chair. The terror in Richie’s eyes matched the mortification in the lines of Eddie’s forehead, and it was all Bill could do not to roll his eyes. He was really going to have to set some ground rules for them moving forward.

He waited a moment to see if either of them would speak, and when neither of them did, he took it upon himself to alleviate the awkwardness.

“First things first,” he said, looking between the two of them sternly. “Why is there a reindeer in my throne room?”

“Stan likes to be inside,” Eddie explained, and looked to Stan for confirmation. Stan continued chewing on his carrot, eyes never leaving Bill.

Bill took a moment to try to figure out how best to phrase what he wanted to say. “What with all the...controversy around this particular reindeer, I think it’d be more comfortable for everyone if he stayed outside for now.”

Stan blinked back at Bill - and if Bill didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that the reindeer had rolled his eyes.

“Controversy?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, and Richie went scarlet.

“It’s his personality,” Richie said, obviously scrambling for an appropriate explanation for Eddie. “Bill doesn’t like that Stan challenges his authority.” He then appropriated a haughty voice that Bill assumed was meant to mean that he was speaking for the reindeer. “He simply cannot abide that I’m the princeliest being in the kingdom. Verily--”

Eddie held up a hand to stop Richie from making an even bigger ass of himself, and looked between Bill and Stan with some interest. “Huh. Bill could use a little bit of a challenge. Maybe he and Stan should spend more time together.”

Bill massaged his temples, wondering how on Earth he was going to get through this conversation (let alone the next however many years of his life).

“No more insinuations about animals,” Bill ordered. “Take the reindeer out, he seems to inspire everyone to make things uncomfortable. Say goodbye to Stan for a little while, you two.”

“Goodbye, Stan,” they chorused sadly, and Bill gestured for a guard to escort the reindeer back to the stables. Stan didn’t seem to need the guard at all - in fact, he resisted the help, electing instead to see himself out in what could only be described as a dignified departure.

There were a lot of questions bouncing around Bill’s brain about that whole situation, but he figured they could and should probably wait to discuss Stan until later. He had business to attend to now, and with that in mind, he stepped forward, crossing through the hall until he reached the throne.

Once Bill had taken a seat, Richie’s mouth was off and running.

“All right, so no more reindeer,” Richie said, “no more jokes. What’s the verdict?”

Bill crossed his legs and studied the strain in Richie’s face; noted the wild curls peeking out from under his hat. He’d obviously been freaking out for the past twenty-four hours...and Bill was almost tempted to draw things out, to see how much Richie could withstand in the name of Eddie Kaspbrak.

But then Bill looked over at Eddie and saw the hope in his wide brown eyes, and any thought of dicking around with Richie exited Bill’s mind abruptly.

“I made my decision,” Bill said, reaching out and gripping the arms of his throne. “I’m--”

“Wait,” Eddie called, and Bill was so surprised that he stopped talking immediately. Eddie never spoke out of turn, and Bill was amazed that he would choose to do it for the first time now, when so much depended on what Bill was about to say.

“Is everything alright?” Bill asked softly.

“I have some things I want to say,” Eddie said, putting his hands on his hips and jutting out his chin in a way that suggested that he was really trying to put on a brave front. Bill felt a wave of fondness wash over him; Eddie had been adopting that particular pose since they were both kids playing in the snow.

“Say them,” Bill invited him, sweeping his arms out in a gesture that he hoped was inviting. “Anything you want to tell me, Eddie. I’ll always listen.”

Eddie smiled at that and clasped his hands together. “Okay. I, um. I wanted to...I know I don’t have the best track record with potential marriage partners.”

Bill shook his head. That was the understatement of the era - granted, Eddie had only had one potential marriage partner before Richie, but Myra was enough of a disaster to make it seem like Eddie had a whole crazy lineup of unfortunate ex-fiances.

Well….no. That wasn’t really fair. Myra wasn’t as terrible as the rumors and whispers were shaping her up to seem. Her course of action was logical - she had a clear shot at the throne of Arendelle, and she chose to take it - and if she was a little bit ruthless in her methods, well...that was the price of power. She wasn’t unkind, anyways - she’d just gotten carried away, and Eddie (and Bill, to a lesser extent) had gotten caught in the crossfire.

It had really hurt, though, to see her scaling the walls of Bill’s ice castle when she’d come after him with a search party, because with the armies of Weselton behind her, she looked alarmingly like Bill’s Aunt Sonia had all those years ago...and Bill had so badly wanted for Eddie to be free of that particular cycle of abuse.

That was another good thing about Richie, Bill realized. He was maybe the least controlling person on the planet. Even now, he was standing at a respectable distance from Eddie, letting him say his piece without engaging or interrupting. He knew how important this was to Eddie, and he was doing everything in his power to keep his big mouth shut while Eddie was speaking.

Bill allowed himself a moment to feel good about his choice to not dick around with Richie’s emotions earlier, and then returned to his conversation with Eddie.

“You’re 0 for 1 in regards to fiancees, that is true,” Bill agreed.

“But Bill - Richie’s not Myra.” Eddie seemed to be picking up steam with every word as he continued his diatribe. “Jumping into the whole thing with Myra was a mistake, I know that now...I wasn’t thinking about how it was going to be in the long run, really - I mean, I met her at a _party_ , for heaven’s sake. I’d known her for an _hour_. I was just desperate to have something because...well.”

 _Because you’d been alone for so long_ , Bill thought sadly, looking down at his gloved hands.

“I know,” Bill said, looking back up into Eddie’s eyes. “I understand why you did what you did, Eddie. It’s okay.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m not finished. I need you to know how _good_ Richie is, Bill. I need you to understand how well he took care of me when we climbed that mountain - and he didn’t even have to climb that mountain, he made the choice to do that with me - and how easy it was to be with him every day. He’s funny, and he’s resourceful, and he knows how important you are to me...even then, he knew how important you were.”

Bill looked at Richie, who was bright red and focused intently on his boots.

“You’ve told me the stories, Eddie,” Bill finally said. “You don’t have to sing Richie’s praises to me - I’ve heard it all.”

“You’ve heard,” Eddie said intently, “but do you _know_? Do you _understand_ how much it took for him to take me back here after I got sick? Do you have _any idea_ how much he loves me?”

Richie straightened a little at that and met Bill’s eyes.

“Well?” Bill asked him, unable to keep a little bit of challenge out of his voice.

When Richie spoke, it was with utmost assurance - like he hadn’t been a nervous wreck at the foot of Bill’s throne just minutes before. “He’s what I know about love. He’s _all_ I know about love.”

Bill wanted to make a smart remark about that, but they wouldn’t have found it funny, so he elected to keep his mouth shut instead.

“And,” Eddie continued, “he loves me enough to know that the most important thing in the world to me is family - is _you_ \- which is the only real reason he brought this up with you in the first place. I…” and Eddie trailed off there, grasping for words that Bill could tell he didn’t really want to say, “I’m going to do this whether or not you want me to, Bill. I love him, and I’m going to marry him no matter what you say. But you have to know that it was Richie’s idea to come to you with this because Richie is smart and good and knows what’s important to me _and_ the kingdom, which makes him a worthy candidate for leadership and royal status--”

Bill held up a hand, and Eddie fell silent.

“I know he is,” Bill said, feeling the beginnings of a smile begin to take shape in the corners of his mouth. “I know all of those things, Eddie, and I think we could use a little bit of...how did you put it... _backwoods fuckery_ in our politics moving forward.”

Eddie’s fists slowly began to unclench. “Do you mean--”

“And more than that,” Bill said, the smile on his face now all-encompassing, “I know exactly how much the two of you love one another. It’s plain for everyone to see - it’s in everything that you do and say - and if I’ve learned one thing from my whole incident, it’s to not stand in the way of true love. It’s too powerful to be tampered with.”

Richie had crossed back up to Eddie, and the two of them were standing hand-in-hand at the edge of the bottommost step leading up to the throne, beaming up at Bill. “So?”

“So the only thing left to do,” Bill said, standing up and opening his arms to them, “is to set a date, so that I can announce my brother’s wedding to the kingdom.”

Upon hearing the word ‘brother’, Eddie lit up. He charged up the stairs at Bill, letting go of Richie’s hand and launching himself into Bill’s arms.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered, clutching Bill like it was the last embrace they’d ever have. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

Bill smiled over Eddie’s shoulder at Richie, who was lingering at the foot of the throne, obviously unsure as to how to respond to everything that was happening.

“It will be good to have two brothers again,” Bill said, and the grin that overtook Richie’s face at that was absolutely worth the five minutes that they then spent being spun around in Richie’s spindly, tree-branch arms.

“Stop,” Bill finally pleaded, pushing at Richie. “You’re welcome, both of you, of course. Go discuss how you want this to be announced. I’ll be waiting.”

Richie released them, and Eddie wasted no time in grabbing Richie’s hand again. Still beaming, they backed off and away from the throne.

“Go!” Bill shooed them, laughing, and with that, they turned and broke into an excited jog towards the front of the castle.

“Thank you!” Richie called before disappearing out of the front door.

Eddie stayed for another quick second, looking back at Bill like Bill had hung the moon.

“I love you,” he said, and Bill felt hot tears spring up unexpectedly behind his eyes.

“I love you too,” Bill replied, hoping that Eddie would understand exactly how true that statement was.

He seemed to get the picture. He gave Bill one more long, joyful look before running out into the morning after Richie.

Bill looked back at the marble patterning of the floor again - at the white snaking through the surrounding black, at the icy streaks through the dark abyss of what Bill had always felt was a perfect representation of his soul.

Today, the white didn’t seem so harsh. The ice was melting, for better or for worse.

Bill didn’t know for sure, but he had a feeling that it was for the better.

_(Only love can heal a frozen heart.)_

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr: skeletonscribbles](https://skeletonscribbles.tumblr.com/)
> 
> it's been my privilege to have been a part of this project - thanks to Shannon for all of her help, and to my wonderful coven of witches who have been promising to laugh at my reindeer jokes since day one. Much love.


End file.
